<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>For You and You Only by im_the_king_of_the_ocean</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30111237">For You and You Only</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_the_king_of_the_ocean/pseuds/im_the_king_of_the_ocean'>im_the_king_of_the_ocean</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Jonmartin Week 2021 (The Magnus Archives), M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Male Character, top surgery mention</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:28:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30111237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_the_king_of_the_ocean/pseuds/im_the_king_of_the_ocean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When so much has been forcefully taken, being able to share something so personal, having it be seen, on his own terms, feels good.</p>
<p>Jon shares his first scars with Martin, on his own terms.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jonmartin_Week_2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For You and You Only</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Jon focuses on the buttons of his shirt, how they feel between his fingers as he slips them through their holes.He doesn’t look up when he gets to the bottommost one.He keeps his attention on that last singular button.He pinches it between his fingers.He feels his breath escape through his lips.</p>
<p class="p1">“Jon.”</p>
<p class="p1">Martin’s presence is both comforting and stifling.Jon wants him there.He wants to lean into Martin and melt into Martin’s open arms, knowing he’ll be safe and loved in their embrace.He wants to push Martin away, to run, to hide.Martin is too close, too near.It’s a <em>secret</em>.Jon’s secret.Keeping it guarantees his safety.He can’t, he <em>shouldn’t</em>…</p>
<p class="p1">“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Martin says quietly, tentatively.His fingers twitch.Jon knows Martin wants to reach out to him, to hold him, reassure him.He won’t, though.Not unless he knows Jon is okay with it.It’s a boundary Martin will never cross without consent.The thought of <em>that</em>, that small consideration almost no one else ever cared to give, brings a small smile to Jon’s lips.</p>
<p class="p1">“I don’t need to see anything.I love you.No matter what.Okay?”</p>
<p class="p1">Jon can feel Martin’s searching gaze on him, Martin’s attempts to make eye contact, to connect wordlessly and maybe gain a hint of what’s going through his mind.Jon doesn’t meet Martin’s gaze.Simply, silently, he raises his shoulders and lets them fall.His shirt slips off him and falls to the ground in a heap.</p>
<p class="p1">Martin’s next words, whatever they are, get caught in his throat.He chokes on them and splutters. </p>
<p class="p1">Jon turns his head up and looks at Martin then, just to see the blush overtake the one he loves’s face.Jon tilts his head and lets himself smile fully at Martin.“You’ve seen all my other scars,” he finally speaks, softly.“I want you to see the ones I chose for myself.”Jon reaches out his hand unmarred from burns and holds it for Martin to place his own in.When Martin does, Jon guides it to his bare chest, to a scar more surgical, precise, than any of the others.Older too.Jon puts Martin’s hand down atop the scar and releases his hold on him.</p>
<p class="p1">“This is,”Martin starts, trying, and struggling, to find the right words.Jon can see the emotions as they flicker across his face.The fluctuation between Martin’s own awkwardness at seeing, <em>touching</em>, Jon’s bare chest and his desire to say <em>something</em>.</p>
<p class="p1">“Top surgery scars,” Jon tells Martin before he can blunder through whatever words he’d have chosen.“Right after university, I—I knew long before that, but that was when I could…” he turns away from Martin again, not wanting to look at him.Jon knows Martin knows about his identity.He came out, as both trans and ace, long before this.<em>This </em>really isn’t necessary.At all.He doesn’t need to, <em>never </em>needed to, not with <em>Martin</em>.</p>
<p class="p1">Without consciously deciding to, Jon pulls away from Martin.He bars his arms across his chest and hunches his shoulders in.This was a bad idea.He never should have.He’s being ridiculous.He’s made it awkward for both of them.It didn’t have to be.If he’d simply left well enough alone…</p>
<p class="p1">“Thank you,” Martin speaks hesitantly, “for trusting me enough to show me.”He pauses, and Jon knows he’s considering his options, the best way to balance giving Jon space and support at the same time.“Do you want to sit down?Talk about anything?”</p>
<p class="p1">“Mhmm.”Jon makes a noncommittal noise.He wanders over to their sofa, not waiting for Martin to follow (but confident he will regardless).They sit down, side by side, with enough space between them that they won’t accidentally touch.Jon knows Martin is waiting for him to make the first move toward…whatever comes next.</p>
<p class="p1">What <em>does</em> he want to happen next?This, showing Martin his scars, his <em>first </em>scars, felt like such an important thing to do <em>beforehand</em>.Now, it just seems redundant.Martin already knew about his identity.There was no need for Jon to make a whole <em>thing </em>of this and yet he has and now they’re here and…</p>
<p class="p1">Martin’s going to berate him for wasting time.Jon knows this, he’s <em>sure </em>of it.This is what he does.What he’s <em>always </em>done since he was a child.He wastes time on unimportant things when he should be focusing on matters of greater importance.Jon feels himself begin to tremble.Then, he feels Martin’s hand place itself atop his own, hesitate, and then clasp around and give his hand a reaffirming squeeze.</p>
<p class="p1">“Is this okay?”Martin asks him, his voice a hushed whisper.</p>
<p class="p1">Jon nods.The action is simpler than trying to pull himself together for vocal articulation.He shuffles closer to Martin, trying to communicate what he wants without actually speaking it into existence.Thankfully, Martin knows his body language well enough to understand.</p>
<p class="p1">Martin reaches over and pulls Jon in close.He tugs the blanket off the back of the sofa and wraps it around them, cocooning them in its warmth.When he feels Jon lean against him and relax, Martin strokes his hair out of the way and kisses his temple.</p>
<p class="p1">“Better?”</p>
<p class="p1">Jon nods again.He breathes deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of Martin’s shampoo.Although he always recognizes the bottle in the store, he can never remember what type it actually is.Regardless, being so close now calms his nerves.Jon closes his eyes, and buries himself deeper in Martin’s embrace.</p>
<p class="p1">When so much has been forcefully taken, being able to share something so personal, having it be <em>seen</em>, on his own terms, feels good.</p>
<p class="p1">Sleeping doesn’t come as difficultly as it used to.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>